


Hope Like Spring, Blooms Eternal

by Amonae



Series: Once Upon A Time [1]
Category: Young Avengers
Genre: Language of Flowers, M/M, Rumplestiltskin Elements, fairy tale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amonae/pseuds/Amonae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Rumplestiltskin, a continuation beyond ‘The End’ and ‘happily ever after’. Where magic flows freely and flora have much more meaning than words.</p><p>“But William was in none of these places and all of them at once. He could feel the traces of his kin’s magic in the air, different from his own with a subtlety only he was bound to notice, the wicks of static drifting through dust motes and settling against the arcs of enchantments. It sent a shiver of quickness through his blood and within seconds he knew where his other half must be. He trod through the garden, trampling seedlings as he went, though they popped right back up in his wake.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my usual betas, Kuchen and Melerune. Without your wonderful support and encouragement, this may have been lost among the ‘never-posted’ list.
> 
> Images in the index are from Wikimedia Commons.

****_ "The devil told you that! The devil told you that!" shouted the little man, and with anger he stomped his right foot so hard into the ground that he fell in up to his waist. Then with both hands he took hold of his left foot and ripped himself up the middle in two. _

Source: Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, "Rumpelstilzchen,"  [ Kinder- und Hausmärchen ](http://books.google.com/books?id=y9tLAAAAIAAJ&pg=PP9#v=onepage&q&f=false) , vol. 1 (Göttingen: Verlag der Dieterichschen Buchhandlung, 1857) [Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales].

* * *

Deep in the forest, past the lush twist of hedera around the roots of trees long-forgotten, over the wandering babble of the idling brook, and through the dank underbrush that snarled and swallowed any who stepped without caution, lay a tiny cottage nestled among the thickets of silybum marianum and rosa. A lean form approached the house with a laden sack slung across one shoulder, a whistling tune passing through lips quirked into a half-grin when at rest. The heavy cloak they wore all but vanished the details of their features, an enchantment taking care of the rest; to a passer-by, they appeared as an elderly man, skin sagging and weak around his jowls, thick-edged wrinkles around eyes that could barely stay open. 

Approaching the cracked stoop leading to an aging wooden door, the man’s stride changed, back straightening and a hint of skip in his gait as he jumped the steps and swung the door wide on its hinges. Pushing back the hood of his cloak with wizened hands, he revealed a shock of white hair and a young man’s face, all sharp edges and pointed lines. 

“Brother, I’ve come bearing gifts!” 

The only answer was his voice reverberating back at him through the cramped quarters of the building. He dropped the bag from his shoulder, which landed with a damp thud, and allowed it to slump against the doorframe before stepping through the house.

“William, where in the seven hells have you gotten yourself to?”

He peered in the kitchen, sifting through kettle and icebox alike; he searched in the attic, where mice and beetles made their nests under the thatch of the roof; he even clomped into his brother’s room, with no heed for personal privacy as he burst through the door. 

But William was in none of these places and all of them at once. He could feel the traces of his kin’s magic in the air, different from his own with a subtlety only he was bound to notice, the wicks of static drifting through dust motes and settling against the arcs of enchantments. It sent a shiver of quickness through his blood and within seconds he knew where his other half must be. He trod through the garden, trampling seedlings as he went, though they popped right back up in his wake. 

Sure enough, beyond the arch of the stone gate, a faint azure glow in the distance announced his brother long before he could see him. Following the winding path through the trees, tiny yearlings giving way to larger boughs and branches before balancing out in a ring around a mid-sized glade. He shoved through a copse of tangled larix, hesitating on the peripheral of the clearing while he watched the figure standing stock-still in the center. The lithe man had his arms raised, swirl of magic flowing outward to lick along the breeze in the air. His eyes blazed with a bright blue radiance, turning to the interruption only seconds after he arrived. 

“Thomas.”

A glaringly obnoxious grin spread across the pale-haired man’s face, arms spreading wide as though inviting an embrace. “William, my favorite brother!”

“I’m your only brother.”

“I have quite the surprise in store for you!” 

William’s eyes had settled back to a deep shade of mahogany, the tendrils of magic dancing electric blue across his skin. He knew the type of surprises that his brother was likely to find amusing, and by the look on his face, this one would be a handful. “I am not interested in your ‘surprises,’” he insisted, sweeping past the other as he left the clearing. Bright sky filtered through branches heavy with leaves, casting mottled patterns of shadow across the near-identical pair as they made their way back through the forest on a path only they seemed to tread. 

“Oh, I’m sure you will be very interested in this one in say, sixteen years, give or take.” The grin on Thomas’s face hadn’t faltered, even as his twin rounded on him, eyes flashing as they narrowed.

“What have you done now?”

“Nothing, nothing, dear brother. Simply made a bargain.” Thomas had drifted to one side of the path and back again, quick as a wink, his magic fluctuating with the excitement in his voice. 

William could feel the pulsing threat of a headache building beneath his temples. “What poor sods did you trick out of their valuables this time?”

“Oh no, you’ve got it all wrong,” he chimed, listing lazy circles around his sibling. “I have done them a wondrous favor.”

“Right. Why don’t I believe you?” 

“All they wanted was a sweet child to call their own, an heir and spawn of their love,” Thomas continued, ignoring the interruption. “How could you deny them such a desire? Your cruelty truly knows no bounds, William.”

Rolling his eyes and pressing a bough back from their path with a gentle wave of lithe digits, William made the decision to, at the very least, play along. “Yes, of course. How awful I am. And what, pray tell, will you be getting from these lovely people when all's said and done? They get a bouncing baby brat, and you get…?”

“Oh no, no, no! It’s not what I get,” there was a perky chirp to Thomas’s voice as he slipped back into William’s line of sight. “It’s what you get. Your present, I mean.”

Huffing a sigh, he held out his hand with the palm upwards, impatiently. “Let’s have it, then. Might as well get this over with.”

Bright emerald eyes, almost neon compared to the lush green of the forest, crinkled at the corners, an after-effect of the enormous smirk spreading across Thomas’s lips. He was obviously trying, and failing, to stifle his laughter. “It’s not something I hand you,” he teased, allowing a sharp bark of mirth to fill the air. “Well, at least not for another decade and a half or so. And even then, I think it would be quite difficult to hand it to you. Though I suppose I could wrap it?”

“Out with it already,” his words were an irate snarl through gritted teeth, dark eyes flashing with a bright burst of blue. 

Thomas frowned. “Well you’re no fun. Fine, ruin the surprise. It’s a date! I got you a date.”

“A date?” Dark brows knitted together on William’s forehead as he puzzled through his twin’s proposition. The frown on his face deepened. “You jest. With a child?!”

“It won’t be a child, it will be a strapping young man or beautiful woman of sixteen!” 

“Somehow, I’m not interested.”

“Aw, come on, William. I am grooming you the perfect match!”

“That is wrong on so many levels. Not. Interested.”

“Oh, fine.” Thomas huffed in response as they approached the cottage, back door still open wide from the pale-haired man’s earlier search. “You’re absolutely no fun. It’s no wonder I’m the favorite.” 

“Just because you harass more humans and they know what you look like does  _ not _ make you the favorite.”

“You just keep telling yourself that, William.”

~~~~~

Despite the best of intentions, and the reluctance to give his brother the slightest of ammunition against him, William often found himself near the walls of the palace. He would never step past—though he could draw away the stone and mortar as easily as curtains—as it was not in his nature to linger near the presence of mortals. He did, however, lay his hand against the sun-warmed rock, palm flat and radiating a whorl of magic along the barriers, protecting them. Protecting the child who was not yet born. 

He refused to think of it as anything more than a droll hobby, idling along the tangled underbrush and warm stone, eyes occasionally reaching skyward and wondering what was on the other side. William had never set eyes on the castle itself, save for the pillars and arching framework that exceeded the heights of the walls outside. They were beautiful: graceful, swooping arches flowed forth into rock carved in the most intricate of patterns; huge windows, inlaid with golden wisps and colored glass that shone brilliantly in the afternoon light, which led onto balconies so large they seemed brimming with extravagance. Such was the entirety of the palace, William had to assume.

And one day, with the sun hiding its face behind a thick layer of cloud, he heard the wail of an infant. The sound was high and keening and carried all the way across the wall and over, settling about William like a cloak. He turned away and did not return for many moons.

When he did return, there was no longer the wail of a babe but the trilling exuberance of a young child, a melody of excitement and joy. William’s magic must have been residing very close to his heart on that day, for in no time he found his heels settling atop the wall, a slow spiral of azure roiling around him. There he was, all scabbed knees and chubby fingers, chasing what appeared to be a toad while a woman too young to be his mother raced after him. His hair was the color of sunlight kissing a sweet farewell to the last trace of sunrise, bright and golden and warm. Though his clothing appeared to be of high quality, there was a smear of mud along the crisp white front of his shirt and his shorts appeared to have a tear along the right leg, flapping wildly in the breeze as he continued to avoid his minder. And when the child turned his head and stared up, up, up, straight at the point where the mage was perched atop the wall, William saw it.

A bright, brilliant blaze of blue, crisper than the sky after a rain and more vivid than the deepest mossy hues of the lake. The color of kingfishers and kyanite and the ipheion uniflorum he had been cultivating for several centuries.

The color of his magic.

Everything crumbled when he remembered, remembered what would happen to this poor child, what his brother had promised these people. Even should he spurn his twin’s gift, Thomas would no doubt find an alternative use for the boy in his multitude of ploys. Or, should he not find a suitable task or chore to set upon him, the boy would be left to wander with the souls who were traded for a higher price, never to see the sunlight other than that which had been captured in his hair. William allowed himself a moment, watching the boy’s attention alight on something new before he turned his expression cold and vanished with a shimmer of brightness against the skyline. 

~~~~~

Thomas left their shared abode on the eve of the boy’s sixteenth birthday. He had offered, jeeringly, to bring back his gift wrapped as had been promised so many moons ago. William chose to ignore him in favor of finding solace among the delicate bellis perennis and the rosy tint of the freesia verrucosa, the rich amethyst of the lisianthus grandiflorum and the soft yellow tulipa gesneriana. His garden had grown into a multitude of hues over the years, and though he had always turned to the flora in times of solitude, William found that much of his past had dwindled in this very spot. Since he saw the boy, made whatever tentative connection he now felt tugging deep within his chest.

He was sure the boy had seen him too, that day. Perhaps he felt the brush of fate that now plagued William’s dawn, daybreak, and dusk. 

Beneath the heavy branches of the salix sepulcralis, he settled against the fallen leaves and scattered catkins, mind laden with a foreboding pressure. Slumber did not come easily these days, but as the sun set and the evening breeze carried the scent of mirabilis jalapa through the garden, William found himself drifting. 

Much time had passed before he woke again, bleary and startled to hear that he was not alone in his small sanctuary. There was the soft, barely-there sound of someone weeping. William felt his heart sink like a stone in his chest as he drew himself from the cool earth and looked to the far reaches of the garden; there, alongside a scraggly calluna vulgaris and a patch of dirt that had not quite found its purpose, sat a hunched figure with hair the color of spun gold. 

Gathering his courage and dispelling the weighty knot that had settled in his throat, William stood and walked as softly as water flowing through the river rocks. He could not see the young man’s features—his face was buried behind thick, smooth palms—but William made note of the strong lines of his back, hunched and shaking as though he were trying desperately to remain still and silent. After a moment’s time, he cleared his throat.

“You are in my garden.”

The result was immediate, bright blue eyes rimmed with swollen red swept to his lithe frame, shoulders arched protectively. When the blond spoke, it was hushed and trembling. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t realize… I mean, it must belong to someone, it’s well-tended but…”

“It is alright,” William found himself saying before he processed the thought. He waved a hand flippantly and crouched beside the young man, allowing a quick flicker of his gaze to dance across the tear-stained features before he turned his eyes to the forest. They stayed like that for quite some time, though William was never one for prolonged silence when he had company. “You must be frightened.”

It wasn’t what he meant to say. He had meant to offer comfort or to begin a topic that may take the youth’s mind off his situation. Instead, he surely made it worse. But when he risked another glance towards the young man, he saw the creeping edge of a smile on lips bitten red. “I was. I mean, I still am but…not of you.” Blue eyes shifted to capture his own and William could feel every muscle in his body freeze at once, perhaps a different kind of magic. “No one who makes such beauty bloom could possibly be evil.”

This boy would be trouble. “Is that what you think of my brother? You think him evil?”

“That devil is your brother?!” Those bright eyes went wide with fear before sliding off to the distance, broad shoulders coming up defensively once more. “I-I am sorry… I didn’t know… I should not assume…”

“No, you should not assume that he and I are so far apart,” William agreed, brushing the catkins from the hem of his trousers. “But he can be a devil, should he choose it.”

There was a moment of startled silence that was broken just as quickly by the deep burst of laughter. The echo carried nervousness and elation, high and sweet to the night skies, and William found his breath floating somewhere among the sound. 

Definitely, definitely trouble. 

~~~~~

The young man’s name was Theodore. While he remained at the cottage against his will, he seemed to be adapting to the alteration in his fate quite well. Yes, there were still nights when William would find him curled in some corner of the garden, trying to make himself look small while he expressed his sorrow and fear in stifled moments, but those instances of pain were becoming few and far between. Thomas was often away, seeking mayhem and fortune elsewhere William had to assume, and it left the pair quite alone among the trees and birdsong. 

And thus, he had plenty of time to notice the changes happening in the young man before his very eyes. There was more laughter, more joy, and a soft sort of smile that only seemed to be coaxed out by something William said or did. The first recollection he had of this smile had been on an evening which was particularly cold for their part of the woods, the gales blowing harsh through the stalks of his beloved consolida ajacis, scattering jewel-hued petals to the wind. Even within the confines of the cottage, the walls creaked and thatched roof whispered complaints. Nearer to the fire, which William had only just set ablaze with no more than a flick of his digits, it was warm and somewhat close to comfortable. 

Theodore appeared anything but comfortable, sitting taut in one of the high-backed chairs, knees pulled up tight to his chest as he trained his gaze on the wavering flames. The gaze was familiar, the one that the youth often had only moments before slipping into a melancholia that claimed his attention for the entirety of an eve, if not more. 

“Do not move,” William instructed, as though there were a chance that other would do anything other than stare into the flame. He slipped out into the night, among the chilled air and scattered gusts, drawing an arm up to protect himself as he picked a decisive path along the creeping hedera and geitonoplesium cymosum. Passing the hardy forsythia suspensa and rhododendron ferrugineum, he focused in on his goal with a singular intent, retrieving a handful of blooms and tucking them in the safe folds of his cloak before returning to the inviting warmth of four walls and fireside. His cheeks were flushed pink from the bite of the air, though he moved to stand before the blond as opposed to warming himself at the fire. Cautiously, he unfolded his arms and held out the brilliant scarlet blossoms.

“Pelargonium hortorum,” he muttered, holding his arm outstretched in the other’s line of sight until Theodore’s gaze finally shifted. Blue eyes flashed quick and bright with something other than sorrow, something warmer than the flames dwindling behind them. 

Theodore broke into a smile, slight at first but quickly growing with confidence as he reached for the flowers. Their fingers brushed gently as he took the cluster and William found himself holding his breath. 

“Thank you,” the blond whispered, voice barely audible over the crackle-pop of the fire, but the smile on his face was more than enough to take the mage’s breath all over again. 

William swiftly turned, moving to the fire under the guise of adding another log and warming his hands, though he could still feel the phantom touch of the young man’s digits. He took a deep, steadying breath. “You’re welcome.”

~~~~~

From that point on, Theodore expressed an interest in flora that he had never quite shown before. He asked the names and types of sprigs that were barely more than infants in their life-stages, for the meanings of each and every bud and bloom, and what the variations within subspecies meant. After a few sessions in the garden, William brought along a small, leather-bound book with a stick of charcoal, offering it without a word. In return, he received that smile, warm and soft and sweet enough to make the mage’s pale cheeks flame, often sending him to the other end of the stone walls.

Now their lessons were accompanied with the  _ scritch scritch scratch _ of charcoal to parchment, drawings given such attention to detail, a neat, scrawling script flowing easily beneath them. The few times William had sought to peer at the pages while Theodore was working, the young man quickly hunched over the book, hiding it from view. Lacking the desire to take from the youth his privacy, along with everything else that had already been wrenched from his hands, William allowed him to compose his notes in peace. 

“What is this one?” Theodore asked, gesturing with his nub of charcoal (the mage made a silent note to obtain another soon) at a cluster of closed buds. 

“Ipomoea alba,” William answered, glancing up from his work with the tendrils of a particularly delicate strain of vanda coerulea. “Moonflowers, I believe you would call them. They only open at night, but they look much like the ipomoea purpurea.” He pointed to a nearby bundle of the violet blossoms, fully open to the afternoon sun. 

“What do those mean again? The purpurea?” The blond was hunched in concentration over his book, brow furrowed as he wrote out a hurried scrawl, so he didn’t take notice of William as he turned away to hurriedly obscure his ruddy cheeks. 

“Affection.”

Theodore’s only answer was a soft grunt that indicated he had heard and the swift movement of charcoal on paper. 

~~~~~

They found themselves in the garden on a particularly warm afternoon for the time of year—the sun had peeked from behind the clouds, gracing the ground with a level, even heat. William was sprawled among the pandorea jasminoides and hedera helix, listening to the sounds of the late-fall birdsong while Theodore read somewhere to his left. Subconsciously, he kept rapt attention on where the other was at all times, as though he were expecting an ogre to jump out from the woods and snatch the young man away. It was a preposterous train of thought, but William could not quench the feeling of uneasy protectiveness he got around the youth. Something shifted near his feet and he knew that Theodore was up, moving across the garden with a quiet ease, though the mage could easily pick up his footfalls among the leaves and debris. He did not open his eyes, feeling out with his magic, knowing at all times where the young man was, so it did not come as a surprise to him when he heard the subtle cough and consequential clearing of a throat somewhere near his head.

“Yes, Theodore?” he asked, still keeping his eyes shut.

“I… you told me I could pick blossoms, right? As I long as I were careful?”

This made William open his eyes, only to see a sheepish look upon the youth’s face and a hand tucked behind his back. He raised a dark brow, curious, and couldn’t keep the smile from sliding onto his lips. “Oh? Yes, I do believe I did.”

Theodore, for a moment, looked as though he had lost his confidence, before he thrust the hand from behind his back forward, a beautiful cluster of purple and rose clustered together in an artful tangle. He had an eye for it, that much was certain. 

“Here,” the blond whispered, crouching to better offer the bundle, which William could now see was tied with an elegant ribbon. He idly wondered where on earth Theodore had found such a thing. 

“Is this for me?” William asked, settling up onto his elbows and reaching lithe digits for the bouquet. He brushed a thumb across the back of Theodore’s hand as he took the offering, receiving a brilliant flush of color in return. 

“Y-yes. As… as thanks.” Theodore’s eyes averted down and away as he took a steadying breath. “I… I’m very grateful, for everything.”

Taking his time to sit up fully, the look on the mage’s face was somewhat bemused while he examined the ipomoea purpurea and campanula medium that provided a beautiful contrast to one another in the cluster. He wondered if the youth even recalled what these particular flowers meant, or perhaps he had gotten confused on their meanings. The campanula medium was accurate for his purpose, reflecting thanks or gratitude. But the ipomoea purpurea… It must have only been a few weeks prior when William had explained the meaning of the bright violet flowers, and he recalled with vivid memory the care with with Theodore had written about them in his little book. So did he know he was boasting gratitude and affection within the same bouquet? 

“Thank you,” William replied simply, not wanting to allow his heart to sprint ahead without him, as it was already thundering loudly in his breast. 

Theodore grinned at him, and if their fingers met and tangled like vines in the dirt between them, William paid it no mind.

~~~~~

The days that followed were peaceful for a time, William would tend to his garden and teach Theodore about the lifecycles and lifespans of each tendril and tangle, pointing out the weeds from the carefully cultivated flora. The blond seemed to have an unyielding affection for any type of lathyrus odoratus, though William could not fathom why. Their blooms were hardly as glorious as the hydrangea macrophylla or even the strands of antirrhinum, it had no technical use such as the athyrium filix-femina or the hyssopus officinalis, but the youth loved them none-the-less for it. 

Thomas returned late one evening, while the pair were gathered about the mantle, the mage explaining the difference between the buds of the physalis alkekengi versus the physalis peruviana. The young man at his side went stiff as the night breeze whisked through the tiny room and brought his brother in upon it. 

“Don’t you two seem quaint?” 

“Thomas,” William warned, his voice hard and eyes holding another sort of warning all their own, flickering bright blue in the dim light. His hands trembled, clenching to fists at his sides as the tendrils of his magic started to weave a bright, azure pattern about his limbs. He could sense Theodore move at his side, stepping away, his heartbeat shuddering as quick as a startled bird’s. Reining back his magic, he tried to quell the rage that scattered through his bones.

The white-haired man raised his hands in surrender, a quirk at the corner of his mouth indicating the beginnings of a smile. “Now, now. I’m just seeing how our  _ guest  _ is faring. No need to get protective, brother.”

He didn’t like the sound of his other half’s voice, something dark and deep lurking just under the surface. Thomas was scheming, to be sure, and that rarely meant it was to someone’s benefit other than his own. “He is doing well, thank you,” William answered curtly, eyes still narrowed but quickly losing all trace of their oceanic hues. 

“Good, good. Well, I will retire for the evening, I think. Brother. Young Prince,” he dipped into a mock-bow and William could feel all of the tension ratchet up inside of the young man behind him. Even after his twin had left the room, the blond still remained on edge, careful to keep his distance. William settled his palm on the hard lines of the other’s shoulder, trying not to flinch away when Theodore jumped from the contact. 

“Sorry, I… He makes me feel so  _ uneasy _ ,” he whispered, voice holding a tinge of regret, as though he knew something he should not about the pair of them. The mage had been careful, so careful, as to disallow any knowledge of their power to the young man, but his work was often disturbed by his brother, who showed no such caution when flaunting his magic. And tonight, he had lost control of himself. He was not sure how much the young man had seen, but by his behavior, it had been far too much. Theodore glanced up through his lashes, a weary smile on his lips, and William felt his heart stop beating for a fraction of a moment. “I… I think I’m going to turn in for the night. Good night, William.” He gathered up his little sketchbook, took a stilted bow, and hurried off to the room he had been given in the small house. 

William heard the latch click into place on the opposite side of the door and frowned.

~~~~~

Days passed with not so much as a word from Theodore, only a casual glimpse of him rustling inside the house while William tended to his garden outside. Whatever connection they held appeared to have been severed, aided by the relation between Thomas and William insomuch as it was by the silent realization that whatever life created Thomas had also created William. So why did the mage feel quite like he was clinging to the end of his own pulsing heartbeat whenever he caught so much as a glimmer of sun-kissed hair? He busied himself more and more within the confines of his helianthus and eremurus cleopatra, tending dutifully to the needy aphelandra squarrosa and wispy geum triflorum, though his heart was no longer in it. William missed the sound of laughter, the soft  _ scritch scritch scratch _ of pencil on parchment, and the warmth of that wondrous smile. 

He ached. 

And longed.

Before long he realized what he had almost had, what he had lost just as quickly, and it nearly tore his soul in twain all over again. While Theodore was still not speaking to him, and would scuttle away as soon as he heard so much as a creak on the floorboards of the cottage, William hoped that there was another way he could convey himself. It was the only hope he had left. 

So, late in the night, he gathered the brightest blossoms of syringa vulgaris, the sweetest-smelling blooms of matthiola incana, and the delicate sprigs of gypsophila, bundling them all into a small bouquet and winding the whole thing with a crisp white ribbon. William stood, restless and uneasy, outside of the young man’s door while he fought an internal battle on which path was correct. Whether he attempted some sort of confession or not, it could not possibly make things worse. That thought comforted him through the brief agony of setting down the blossoms and retreating to his own room.

It was only a few minutes more before he had tormented himself through several variations and results, imagining every which way that things could be destroyed further by a grand gesture such as this, and William was hauling himself from the bedding and padding swiftly down the hall. The bouquet, however, was gone. He had not heard the latch, though he may have been too caught up in his own tremulous thoughts to listen for it, and William prayed that it had not been Thomas who had snatched the flowers. That, he was sure, would result in an even greater torment than if Theodore chose to never speak to him again.

The next morning, when dawn was just beginning to peek over the boughs of the fraxinus excelsior and the peaked tops of the larix decidua, brought the soft and careful footfalls of a stranger in his garden. William hadn’t realized that after hovering outside of Theodore’s room for several minutes more than necessary, he had not returned to his room but instead wandered to the familiar press of the magnolia grandiflora before settling among the roots and fallen leaves and slipping into an uneasy slumber. His magic woke him before the sound, tendrils woven into every sprig and root and expanding his mind across the stretch of the fenced yard. So when the other reached him, he opened his eyes with a calm that his trembling heart beat did not echo.

“Good morning.”

“Morning…” Theodore had averted his blue eyes the moment William opened his own, though not quickly enough to avoid the mage spotting the sprawl of rose across tanned cheeks. 

When neither of them spoke again, William sat up, twisting a hand through his dark locks which stood at attention in odd tangles. “Shall we continue with your lessons?” 

The young man brightened considerably, a smile both eager and relieved blooming on his features. “Yes, please.” 

Ignoring the knots that formed agitated loops in his stomach, the mage stood and stalked to the corner he had been tending the previous day. He lifted a sheaf of overhanging juniperus cedrus to expose the delicate pink blossoms of the flora beneath. “Could you tell me what this plant is?”

Theodore’s brow creased with a frown as he crouched to examine the fuzzy stalk and sticky leaves, sea-colored eyes narrowed in concentration. “Silene… gallica?”

“Not quite,” William answered with a shake of his head, crouching to join the blond at his level. “The leaves are not the same, nor the color of the flora. But you have the genus right. It is the silene dioica, a common island plant.”

“It’s very pretty.”

Smiling, the mage twisted a bloom in nimble fingers to explore it from all angles. “True. But the tomentosa is much more so.”

“Where is that one?” Theodore asked, glancing around their immediate area as though it would spring out at him from the thousands of other plants. 

William smiled, both fond and saddened. “I do not have that one. It is incredibly rare, supposedly extinct. Many years ago I had quite a gathering of them but, against my best intentions, one hard frost had them all quaking to their roots.”

It was quiet then, for a few moments, before the young prince’s soft voice interrupted the silence. “I’m sorry.”

His voice held so much compassion, so much empathy, that William felt himself believing that the youth, who could not possibly know how much that tiny scuttling of foliage had meant to him, was truly sorry about the whole incident. To quell the flush rising against his cheeks, the mage cleared his throat and stood, side-stepping to another area of the small garden. 

“It could not be helped. Shall we move on?”

While going over the growth patterns and tendencies of the fragaria vesca, a hard wind coursed through the garden, sending loose leaves and blossoms alike scattering to the skies. A hard frown creased William’s brow and he turned to face his brother, body rigid with anger. He had only just repaired this tenuous connection with Theodore and now his other half was here to bring chaos and ruin in his wake.

“Leave us, Thomas.” He could feel wary fingers cling to the back of his shirt as the blond attempted to hide himself in William’s shadow.

“Afraid I can’t, dear brother.” Thomas was vibrating with energy as though he were irritated by remaining still for such a period of time without exerting any illusions or trickery. “I’m going to need to return your gift.”

William stiffened further, standing as tall as his thin frame would allow. “I cannot let you do that.”

The pale-haired man who shared his face seemed unperturbed by William’s anger, examining a sprig of picea he must have stolen on his way into the garden. “The deal is already done. There is nothing I can do to end it now. He will be saving many lives, quite a noble cause, for a human.”

“No.”

“It is not your decision to be made, William. He leaves on the morrow to wed the Bishop Princess, a match to end the warring between his kingdom and theirs.”

He heard Theodore’s breath hitch, halfway to a sob, behind him and reached a hand back to twine lithe fingers with those clinging tight to his clothing. “You cannot do this.”

“It is already done.”

“No,” William hissed, giving the young prince’s hand a tight squeeze before releasing him and stepping forward, forcing a distance between them once more. To do this, he was sure, would destroy whatever they were building, crumble it to the very foundation and pull up any roots that had begun to grow so many months prior. However, the mage was also sure that this was his only option, should he wish to maintain Theodore’s freedom. 

He swept past his brother with a singular, smooth motion, the edge of his crimson scarf picking up in the twist of the breeze. “I will amend this dispute myself. Theodore,” he froze in place, taking a moment to collect himself. “You shall never again be forced onto a path you did not choose yourself. I will promise you that with all the life that flows in my veins.”

William did not wait for a reply, feeling the wind pull swift through the trees as his eyes shifted from the deep chestnut of the forest to the bright blue of the sky. His body was light, an ethereal glow pressing outward from his limbs as he leapt and was gone on the incoming breeze, leaving a bewildered young prince behind, among the overflowing blooms of his garden.

~~~~~

From this height, he could see the encroaching army and the damage it would unfold upon what was once such a peaceful kingdom. Riders on horseback led the charge, ahead of the others to scout the land and clear a path of death and destruction. Small villages were nothing but burning stars, dotting the countryside with a constellation of violence. Humanity, William thought, was such a savage creature. Had he not become attached to one of its kind, he may not feel the sympathy that now coursed through his veins, flowing out with his magic until the sky was a brilliant, glowing azure sea. It pulsed and shifted until everything was lit in an eerie glow, thousands of faces turned to greet his power as it swept among them. 

_ “Let the will to fight be gone, _

_ Let you return home as allies, not enemies, _

_ And remember no more the toils you faced here.” _

By the time the light had dispersed among the people, William was already settling his feet among the fallen debris that was scattered throughout his precious flora, body shuddering with the after-effects of his magic. Without moving from his position, he already knew the outcome had been just as he expected—Theodore was gone.

~~~~~

Weeping would have been too simple a solution to his sorrow. Instead, William turned inward, no longer leaving the cottage and its surrounding property for any reason, isolating himself from the world outside it. He knew, should he depart from this place, the temptation to search for that which he had lost would be too great. And in the end, he also knew, it would be futile. So he tended to the adonis annua and pulmonaria, trimming back the aquilegia vulgaris and iris germanica each season’s end, and re-seeded the tagetes patula and gomphrena globosa every spring. Immersed in his garden, he almost didn’t feel the slow ache that gnawed at his soul from the inside out, twisting and turning and tearing him apart with the passage of each year. Even Thomas had ceased his attempts to get William to leave or brighten his mood, and his pale-haired half had been gone some several moons before the mage even realized his presence was missing.

Time passed in a stagnant haze, moving past the monotony presented by each day.

Until once again, everything changed.

William had fallen into an uneasy half-slumber under the fraxinus excelsior when he sensed an unfamiliar footfall at the garden’s gate. There was hesitance in the gait, and though the mage took his time to draw himself up from the weary depths of sleep, the stranger did not move. With a soft sigh, he called out, not bothering to open his eyes. 

“These lands are private property and you are trespassing. State your business or begone.”

William could feel the flutter of an increased heartbeat, the soft inhalation of breath that preluded a lilt of gentle words that warmed him to his core. 

“I am sorry to disturb, sir, but I was hoping to deliver a gift.”

“A gift?” William asked, raising a brow and opening his eyes to peer through the draping boughs of the tree. He could just make out the hint of a golden tumble of hair, wild and unruly against bronzed skin. Frowning, he answered with a wary tone. “Who dares to bring a gift to my garden?”

“Long ago, I would have considered myself your friend.” He could hear the smile in the human’s voice, an edge to his tone that lilted high and bright. “Now, I am not so sure, but I would… I would like to be again, were it possible.”

The tremble that had started beneath his breast scattered through his lithe frame as though it had wings, beating nervously against his bones. William stood, faster than he meant, the crown of his head brushing the gilt leaves and sending a bright scatter to swirl about him as he stepped forward, hesitantly holding back the heavy branches that obstructed his view.

And there, just outside of the arch created by the entwined boughs of two young ilex aquifolium, was a man that was no longer a boy. The years had changed the soft curves of his features into a square jaw and strong cheekbones, blessed by the color of sunlight and scatterings of freckles over every inch of bare skin. Where he had been lean and trim he was now sinewed and broad, shoulders supporting a large pack, stuffed to the brim with mysterious bundles. William felt his breath catch in his throat and threaten to strangle the single word that passed his lips.

“Theodore.”

“Good morning, William.” There was that smile, that same gentle look, and now there was no doubt in the mage’s mind that it was the same young man that had once graced the walls of this very garden with his presence. He could feel the thundering clap of his heartbeat, the nervous tremble that echoed all the way to the soles of his feet, and William found himself fixed to the spot, clinging to the hanging tendrils of the fraxinus excelsior as though it were the only thing keeping him upright. He swallowed around the thick lump in his chest and managed to speak in a hard whisper.

“You left.” That was not what he intended to say, not by a long shot, but his mouth had a way of going on without him when he was impeded by nerves. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep more words he did not mean from spilling, unbidden, past his lips.

The damage had been done, he watched the smattering of emotion filter across Theodore’s face, ranging from shock to sorrow before settling on a quiet anguish, bubbling just beneath the surface. “I am sorry. I did not mean…to cause any ire, I just…I needed to go. To find my own way. I was just a child, and everything I had ever known had been forced upon me from the moment of my birth.” There was a quiet pause and the edge of a smile came back to rosy lips. “But then I met you. You taught me things simply because I was curious, not because it would be necessary to rule or polite in common society. You took the time to explain things to me just because I had the desire to learn. No one had…no one had ever listened to me long enough to know what  _ I _ wanted to do before.

“So I wanted to thank you, for all of that. You helped me find myself among everything I was not. I am sorry that I left, but I needed to complete my education on my own. I had hoped you would understand and perhaps find it within yourself to forgive me.” The young prince smiled, a sheepish look replacing the softer, more sure appearance he had before. Theodore fumbled with the straps of his pack, retrieving a small parcel from one of the larger pockets along the side. He held the bag, tied tight and secure with twine, at arm’s length while his body still hovered hesitantly beyond the garden’s gate. “If you cannot forgive me, I do understand. Please, at least take this as my apology.”

William was quiet as he finally stepped past the tree-lined edge of the garden and down the little stone path, halting himself among the convolvulus minor and solidago. “Bring it to me.” He felt the cold shimmer of his spell breaking as Theodore stepped beneath the small arch, the first footfalls on the soft soil other than his own in several passes of the brightest of moons. It sent a quick shudder trampling down his spine as he watched the blond approach, cradling the small bag with both hands.

“Please,” the young man began, eyes lowered from William’s face as he offered the bundle once again.

With a delicate hand, the mage plucked the packet from the other’s palms, tugging and pulling and unwinding the carefully-wrapped layers of twine until the linen sprawled against his hand like a blossom greeting the dawn. Several small pods tumbled free, spreading tiny, rounded seeds against the cloth. William could feel his eyes widen and he cupped his hands, cautious now, for if he dropped even a single seed, it would be one too many. “Are these…?”

“Silene tomentosa. These should bloom in the red spectrum, as the parent plants appeared to be pure, though I can’t be sure.” Theodore still did not meet his gaze, even as a rosy hue brushed patterns down his jawline and over the curvature of his ears. 

It had been decades since William had seen the bright blossoms, several more since he had been able to cultivate them. Many thought them to be extinct, or only to grow in the harshest of mountainous climates, so for such a young man, a  _ human _ to locate them…

“Theodore. Look at me.” His voice was hard, exuding a sternness he did not feel, but this was not the place for the tender bud he felt unfurling beneath his beating heart. 

Slowly, uneasy, Theodore looked up, blue eyes echoing every wary thought that flickered through William’s harried mind. Allowing a deep breath to soothe his nerves, the mage smiled, a feeling that was strange to him after such a time without it. 

“Thank you,” William whispered, carefully gathering the pods back into their precarious bundle, holding them close to his heart with one hand while the other hovered lithe digits just above the hard line of Theodore’s jaw. “You recall what these mean?”

The reply was so quiet it was nearly inaudible, a whisper on the breeze. “Yes.”

Letting his hand settle against the sun-kissed cheek, just as warm as he imagined, William brushed his thumb across the smooth skin. “And do you mean it?”

This time, there was more behind the word, a rough edge that gave it strength. “Yes.”

Their lips met in a rushed frenzy, William crashing forward before his mind could argue semantics with his heart. His free hand had moved to tangle in golden curls, tugging hard as he felt Theodore tense and then relax beneath him, his mouth opening with a soft moan. Then there was heat and crashing tongues and the pounding of two hearts quickly becoming one.

It was a happier ending than William thought he deserved.

~~~~~

Deep in the forest, past the lush twist of hedera around the roots of trees long-forgotten, over the wandering babble of the idling brook, and through the dank underbrush that snarled and swallowed any who stepped without caution, lay a tiny cottage nestled among the thickets of silybum marianum and rosa. Two figures approached the house, hands entwined in a constant link between them. One wore heavy robes of crimson, well-protected against the oncoming chill of winter. The other, a thick cloak of mossy green, lined with the softest of furs. Tales of the crooked stoop and sagging exterior of the house were no longer spread across the land. Instead, a whisper of the botanist that could cure any ailment and the mage who tended the flora was trickling among the villages and towns. Brave folk would risk the woods, with all of their ghouls and goblins, to leave a humble request upon the cracked stone steps. Were they lucky, the morning breeze may grant them their wish. Were they not, a white-haired trickster may greet them instead.

Would you care to test your luck?


	2. Flora Index

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was recommended by my lovely betas that an index may be helpful as you read. Enjoy.
> 
> (Images will come shortly.)

**FLORA INDEX**

 

_Hedera (Helix)_

**Common Name:** Ivy (Common)

 **Meaning:** Wedded Love, Fidelity, Friendship, Affection

 

_Silybum Marianum_  
**Common Name:** Milk Thistle

 **Meaning:** Independence, Austerity, Sternness

 

_Rosa_  
**Common Name:** Rose

 **Meaning:** Varies, based on color

 

_Larix_  
**Common Name:** Larch

 **Meaning:** Audacity, Boldness

 

_Ipheion Uniflorum_  
**Common Name:** Spring Starflower

 **Meaning:** N/A

 

_Bellis Perennis_  
**Common Name:** Daisy

 **Meaning:** Innocence, Loyal Love, I'll Never tell, Purity, Beauty

 

_Freesia Verrucosa_

**Common Name:** Freesia

 **Meaning:** Innocence, Trust

 

_Lisianthus Grandiflorum_

**Common Name:** Lisianthus

 **Meaning:** Thoughts

 

_Tulipa Gesneriana_

**Common Name:** Garden Tulip

 **Meaning:** There’s Sunshine In Your Smile

 

_Salix Sepulcralis_

**Common Name:** Weeping Willow

 **Meaning:** Mourning

 

 

_Mirabilis Jalapa_

**Common Name:** Marvel of Peru/Four O’Clock Flower

 **Meaning:** Timidity

 

_Calluna Vulgaris_

**Common Name:** Heather

 **Meaning:** Admiration, Solitude

 

_Consolida Ajacis_

**Common Name:** Rocket Larkspur

 **Meaning:** Levity, An Open Heart, Lightness

 

_Geitonoplesium Cymosum_

**Common Name:** Scrambling Lily

 **Meaning:** N/A

 

 

_Forsythia Suspensa_

**Common Name:** Weeping Forsythia/Golden-Bell

 **Meaning:** Anticipation

 

 

_Rhododendron Ferrugineum_

**Common Name:** Alpenrose/Snow-Rose

 **Meaning:** Beware Danger

 

_Pelargonium Hortorum_

**Common Name:** Geranium

 **Meaning:** Consolation, Melancholy

 

_Ipomoea Alba_

**Common Name:** Tropical White Morning-Glory/Moonflower

 **Meaning:** Dreams of love

 

_Vanda Coerulea_

**Common Name:** Blue Orchid

 **Meaning:** Magnificence, Love, Beauty, Refinement, Reflection

 

 

_Ipomoea Purpurea_

**Common Name:** Morning-Glory

 **Meaning:** Affection

 

_Pandorea Jasminoides_

**Common Name:** Bower Plant/Bower Vine

 **Meaning:** N/A

 

_Campanula Medium_

**Common Name:** Canterbury Bells

 **Meaning:** Gratitude

 

_Lathyrus Odoratus_

**Common Name:** Sweet Pea

 **Meaning:** Good-bye, Departure, Blissful Pleasure, Thank You for a Lovely Time

 

_Hydrangea Macrophylla_

**Common Name:** French Hydrangea

 **Meaning:** Thank you for understanding, frigidity, heartlessness

 

_Antirrhinum_

**Common Name:** Snapdragons

 **Meaning:** Gracious Lady, Strength

 

_Athyrium Filix-Femina_

**Common Name:** Lady Fern

 **Meaning:** Magic, Fascination, Confidence, Shelter

 

_Hyssopus Officinalis_

**Common Name:** Hyssop

 **Meaning:** Cleanliness

 

_Physalis Alkekengi_

**Common Name:** Chinese Lantern/Winter Cherry

 **Meaning:** N/A

 

_Physalis Peruviana_

**Common Name:** Cape Gooseberry/Inca Berry

 **Meaning:** Anticipation, Expectancy

 

_Helianthus_

**Common Name:** Sunflower

 **Meaning:** False riches, Pride

 

_Eremurus Cleopatra_

**Common Name:** Foxtail Lily, Desert Candle

 **Meaning:** Endurance

 

 

_Aphelandra Squarrosa_

**Common Name:** Zebra Plant

 **Meaning:** N/A

 

_Geum Triflorum_

**Common Name:** Prairie Smoke

 **Meaning:** N/A

 

_Syringa Vulgaris_

**Common Name:** Common Lilac

 **Meaning:** First emotions of love

 

_Matthiola Incana_

**Common Name:** Hoary Stock

 **Meaning:** Happy Life, Contented Existence

 

_Gypsophila_

**Common Name:** Baby’s Breath

 **Meaning:** Innocence, Pure of Heart

 

_Fraxinus Excelsior_

**Common Name:** European Ash

 **Meaning:** N/A

 

 

_Larix Decidua_

**Common Name:** European Larch

 **Meaning:** N/A

 

_Magnolia Grandiflora_

**Common Name:** Southern Magnolia

 **Meaning:** Nobility, Perseverance, Nobility

 

 

 _Juniperus Cedrus_  
**Common Name:** Canary Islands Juniper

 **Meaning:** Protection, Anti-theft, Love, Exorcism, Health

 

_Silene Gallica_  
**Common Name:** Common Catchfly/Windmill Pink

 **Meaning:** Pretended love, Snare, Unchanging friendship

 

_Silene Tomentosa/Silene Dioica_  
**Common Name:** Red Campion/Red Catchfly (Rare variety)

 **Meaning:** Youthful love, I fall victim

 

_Fragaria Vesca_  
**Common Name:** Wild Strawberry

 **Meaning:** Esteem, Love, Perfect elegance

 

_Picea_  
**Common Name:** Spruce

 **Meaning:** Hope in adversity

 

 

 _Adonis Annua_  
**Common Name:** Pheasant's-eye/Adonis' Flower

 **Meaning:** Sorrowful memories

 

_Pulmonaria_  
**Common Name:** Lungwort

 **Meaning:** Thou art my life

 

_Aquilegia Vulgaris_  
**Common Name:** European Columbine

 **Meaning:** Deserted Love, Inconstancy, Foolishness

 

  
Iris Germanica 

 **Common Name:** Bearded Iris

 **Meaning:** Ardour

 

_Tagetes Patula_  
**Common Name:** Mexican Marigold

 **Meaning:** Pretty Love, Sacred Affection, Caress, Sorrow

 

_Gomphrena Globosa_  
**Common Name:** Globe Amaranth

 **Meaning:** Unfading Love

 

_Ilex Aquifolium_  
**Common Name:** Common Holly

 **Meaning:** Defense, Domestic Happiness, Am I forgotten

 

 

 _Convolvulus Minor_  
**Common Name:** Dwarf Morning Glory

 **Meaning:** Affection, Departure

 

_Solidago_  
**Common Name:** Goldenrod

 **Meaning:** Good fortune, Encouragement, Success, Caution, Support


End file.
